The Tributes of District 1
by Dawn Bently
Summary: Glimmer let another smile pass for about half a second before she covered it up again. She didn't want anybody to know her deadly little secret. Sure it was illegal, but wasn't training for the Games in advance also illegal?


**So, this is just a continuation of my series of one-shots about each district's pair of tributes. Be sure to read my other two **

**The Tributes of District 2 and ****The Tributes of District 11.**

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><p>Glimmer was just standing there in front of the window, but Marvel couldn't tell if she was looking down at the crowds celebrating before the start of the Hunger Games, or if she was utilizing the reflective nature of the glass to check her hair. Either option was very in character for his shallow fellow District tribute. He was seated at the table eating rather leisurely just to put on the pounds. It never hurt to have a few extra calories to burn in case there's a sudden shortage of food in the arena.<p>

From the other side of the room, one of their mentors beckoned them to the seating area to watch the reruns of the other Reapings. Since they'd been on the train during the other District's Reapings, they'd missed their first chance to really see their opponents. Marvel looked up at the woman for a moment before he shifted his eyes back down to his half empty plate. Taking his time, he took another few bites then emptied his glass of wine. Glimmer went over to the seating area before him and was already seated on one end of the couch.

By the time he crossed the room, she'd produced a comb from God knows where and got to work on running it though her hair because in the last hour that she hadn't combed it, millions of tangles had formed. Marvel just rolled his eyes at her a she sat down on the other end of the small couch and turned his eyes upward at the screen. Right around District Five's Reaping, Glimmer set her brush down on the end table next to her and leaned back in the couch. Her hand rested on the cushion of the couch next to her leg, her fingers tap-tap-tapping away until Marvel reached over and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

"Would you stop trying to annoy me every chance you get?" he snapped, vaguely aware of the thick gold band of the ring she wore on her ring finger. The emerald was rather large and flashy, even for her standards. "And I think your boyfriend's promise ring is unnecessary in the arena," he added as he dropped her hand dramatically while shoving it towards to her to land in her lap. When Marvel turned back up to the screen, he didn't even notice Glimmer's gaze lingering on him, a mischievous little smirk pulling on the corners of her mouth.

"This wasn't a gift from my boyfriend," she finally commented after she'd turned away from him and kept watching the screen. When District 2's Reaping was on, she leaned forward slightly with more interest as she eyes that boy who proved himself to be quite the attractive Tribute. She was only mildly interested in the volunteer from District 12, but those double digit Districts usually died within minutes anyway.

"And yet you spin that thing around your finger all damn day," Marvel remarked without meeting her gaze. Glimmer let another smile pass for about half a second before she covered it up again. She didn't want anybody to know her deadly little secret. Sure it was illegal, but wasn't training for the Games in advance also illegal? Nobody seemed to mention that to all the academies around District 1 that specialized in training all the children.

"It just reminds me of home," she resolved to answer as she pulled one leg up to the couch and turned to face Marvel. She'd known him for years by then, ever since they'd crossed paths at one of those aforementioned, supposed to be illegal, academies they were both enrolled in. It was kind of nice, she thought, having someone with her who was even just slightly familiar. She also happened to know all his tricks, like his arm and what they can do with a couple spears. Then again, he knew about her passion for hand-to-hand combat enhanced with one or two of her hidden weapons. Getting too close to her, literally, could be fatal.

"Don't you have a token?" she asked, knowing Marvel never gave out information willingly.

Instead of answering, Marvel leaned towards her to dig into his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he sat up straight again, then opened his palm. He turned the roughly made coin over in his hand once or twice, his eyes glued to the dirty old thing, before he handed it over to Glimmer. It wasn't nice and clean, it wasn't shinny and new, it wasn't any of the things that Glimmer liked, so after inspecting it with a bit of a scowl across her face, she passed it back to him.

"What is it?" she questioned, unable to make out the markings on either side of the ragged coin.

"I don't know," Marvel answered truthfully with a shrug. His eyes were glued to the screen after he replaced the coin to his pocket. Since the Reapings were over, some other programming was on, but he wasn't really watching it. It was just easier to look at the screen than at Glimmer.

"Why do you have it then?"

"It's my brother's," Marvel answered. There wasn't much harm in telling her something a little more emotional than usual. Not only did she know about his penchant for spears, she wasn't stupid enough to underestimate him. And if she was, then all the more reason to bare his soul. "It found it one day on the ground and thought it was so cool. When he volunteered a few years back, he meant to take it as his token but there was another volunteer that year and he never went to the Games. So when I was picked as the volunteer, he gave it to me to take as my token."

Glimmer didn't say anything about the story, mostly because in the back of her mind she knew about the lack of sentimental ties to her token. Absentmindedly, she had begun to spin the ring around her finger again, giving weight to Marvel's observation, but she was always careful not to touch the gemstone. She didn't want to accidently turn that pretty emerald.

Though they remained seated side by side, they did not say anything, nor did they turn to look at each other. That was the epitome of their relationship. Same place, same time, nothing more. Of course, there was quite a bit more at stake, not that either paid that thought much attention. There was no reason too. Both were very aware that one of them might go home, and one of them will without question perish. Both could perish in the arena, but that was a laughable idea.

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><p><strong>Please don't forget to Review!<strong>


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